


When Erwin was there

by MouMou



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Beta Wanted, Fuck This, I just wrote this because I was sad, I miss erwin, Levi is tired, M/M, Manga & Anime, One Shot, Oneshot, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan References, Spoilers, This is my first story on here, and I need a beta, and kind of sad, based off a scene from the manga, can I call this a oneshot, fuck attack on titan, he misses erwin, im sorry, its good though, its just a one shot, its short, need beta, of Levi and Erwin, please help, please read it, working on a new fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 17:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16520954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouMou/pseuds/MouMou
Summary: Levi's tired.





	When Erwin was there

“If I don’t do it myself, the chances of success decrease.”

Levi’s slouched against the door, the wooden carvings in it making it hard to act comfortable. “That’s right, the operation may fail. If you kick the bucket on top of that, then it’s all over.” He pauses briefly, the nudging of his chin keeping Erwin silent. “It’s enough for you to sit on your chair and move your brain. That causes the most trouble for the titans; And it’s the best choice for humanity as well.”

Though nothing about the situation is comfortable to Levi. Erwin looks at him, blue eyes holding that same damn need for answers and closure. The commander shifts in his seat, the right sleeve of his dark jacket hanging loosely at his side. Levi doesn’t look at it.

“No, you’re wrong.” Erwin says, voice low but uplifting in the way that the captain already knows what he’s going to say. “The best choice would be for me to stake everything on this operation—”

“Oi,” Levi cuts in, deciding he’s had enough. To him, this wasn’t up for debate. “Hold up, if you keep sprouting off that high-minded language to me, I’m going to break both of your legs.” 

Erwin doesn’t say anything; or rather, Levi can’t hear him. Erwin’s mouth is opening and closing, moving with words of response but Levi can’t hear him. There’s a random bruise blossoming on the commanders face, turning from yellow to purple and suddenly he doesn’t look as good as before. Erwin’s slouching over, chest heaving with every silent sentence and then suddenly he’s coughing—blood splattering out onto the white papers on the desk. Someone screams.

Levi lurches up in bed, heart hammering and hand scrambling for a knife that wasn’t under his pillow. The darkness is humble in the room, fading out into the moon that’s poured out from the window and onto the floor boards. His hand relaxes, slipping out from the sheath of the cushion. 

It’s been years since he’s had a dream like that.

But unlike the darkness, it doesn’t fade away. 

There’s too much going on, and Levi knows there’s no time for this: for pathetic nightmares, for worrying his lip while grieving over what can’t come back. 

Erwin can’t come back.

Though his image is still there, bloody and bruised with mouth ajar in a low moan of pain. Levi carelessly rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, but it’s still there: imprinted on the insides of his eyelids. 

 

Erwin was there.

Forever engraved into Levi’s life.

When Isabel and Farlan had died, Erwin was there. There to help guide his anger elsewhere, there to offer quiet company in the candle-lit room of Erwin’s office during late hours. There to distract from the nightmares and grief with perseverance, like a pillar refusing to fall in a broken building. 

It was instigating. It kept Levi on the ground when he had later lost his entire squad; molded him there to the earth—kept him where he belonged.

Because Erwin was there.

But now, he’s not. 

Erwins dead. 

And Levi doesn’t know how to cope.

Can’t. 

If felt as if the ground was crumbling beneath his feet, every nightmare-induced night cutting away his foundation piece by piece. Each day he was walking a thin line, stumbling this way and that as he roamed unfamiliar territory.

Levi wasn’t angry. He wasn’t consumed with despair or grief. No, Levi knew those emotions—suffered each of them in the rawest, realest way possible—but this, this was different.

Levi was tired. 

Yes, he could kick down doors and fight his way through mobs of people and titans alike if called for, but behind that physical strength, he was tired. His mind ached with the need to sleep, to put every cluttered thought and plan away, away; because every thought and plan led to the same outcome: 

Death. 

Whether it be the soldiers he trained or his closest comrades, his mind always went haywire with the knowledge that death was the ultimate outcome; the only outcome. 

And he was tired of it.

Tired of pretending that they can dodge the inevitable. 

Tired of knowing.

Tired of hoping.

Outside, the wind brushes against his window.

Levi tosses the covers back, deciding that if he was going to be awake; he may as well be useful. Quickly changing into day clothes, Levi sauntered to the cabinet in the corner of his room, pulling out the cleaning supplies while tucking a broom under his arm. The base was filthy, especially after returning from the last expedition, and now he has some free time to clean it. 

Free time to clean.

Free time to stop thinking.

And if he scrubbed the same clean floors for hours—laboring long after everyone awoke and the soldiers evaded his vexed presence—or if Erwin’s name was spilled a few times along with the bucket of soap water—then, well... no one said anything about it.


End file.
